


You Drive Me Nervous

by Albrecht_Starkarm



Category: Black Lagoon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ageplay, BDSM, F/F, Light Bondage, Mommy Fetish, Spanking, brat taming, cute costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albrecht_Starkarm/pseuds/Albrecht_Starkarm
Summary: Being a stony bitch with brimstone perfume and a lupine stare gets exhausting for everyone in Roanapur's saffron heat.  Even Revy.  Who wouldn't want to slide back into a pink sugar madness and wallow in some delectable discipline taken hard with a slap on your cheek and palm on your ass and a stern pair of cold blue eyes eating your soul alive?  Let her cruel red mouth eat everything else.
Relationships: Eda/Rebecca "Revy" Lee
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	You Drive Me Nervous

**Author's Note:**

> Don't tell me you never saw this coming.
> 
> Don't lie to me, and don't lie to yourself.

The worst goddamned part of New York City was always the winter. It was high on a list reaching into a bleak unforgiving sky like all the gothic buildings thrown up 'cause the people who made them didn't want to live in the grime and the filth and the sewage fug floating off the East River with its gardens of dead rotting mafiosi with their arms uplifted in penance and a scum of rotting rubbers graveyard of wasted human potential thank God it was dead on arrival with a wince and grunt and the yen wait coming down Times Square back when it was really fun, all the sleaze and the filth and the decadence and the real hunger. It was a prayer for absolution, for salvation by building a pygmy Tower of Babel, See, Lord, so won't you give us credit just for trying with all the crenelations like old medieval castles and soaring buttresses and goddamned gargoyles staring down with judgment at the horde.

The pathetic bums with their hands out and old tattered copies of the _Street News_ with feel-good editorials from the rich half-drowning in their guilt and eating some trendy compassion, Paul Newman throwing some pointless words of bonhomie to people who didn't have in their whole fuckin' lives as much as he spent on one lunch. The junkies' arms blackened with shapes like putrid Christmas trees all jagged edges and pins and needles and the hookers with their filthy skin and torn clothes and some of them supermodel goddesses walking the wrong runway in the wrong town and some of 'em fat and wizened and inexplicably still turning tricks, giving lie to the great fantasy sex was just about sex and desire.

New York City was the worst in winter, 'cause at least in the summer it was hot and the rot made sense. But the funk boiling off Coney Island in the winter was the same as the summer and the cracked sidewalks littered with shit and trash like urban tumbleweeds and the dead lots with their melancholic sinkhole eyes opening up to eat the unwary and the backed-up toilets and the screams and sobs from the back-alley clinics where all the nurses it's promised _habla español _and maybe some of the doctors or maybe vows of speaking Chinese, has your employer stolen your wages, eaten your firstborn, turned you out?

Winter was when all the lies came back to roost and it wasn't even fucking _fun_ and maybe that was the point.

Winter didn't happen in Roanapur. Otherwise, it was pretty much just the worst of New York with the worst of the tropics, low-level smog shit out of the old factories and fishing fleets belching their smoke and whipping around a stink of hot salty seawater and diesel and putrid drying fish and fermenting nam pla and unwashed bodies but the hookers were a helluva lot prettier, weren't they, than New York City?

Looked like a goddamned model convention in Roanapur, all of them with their long legs out, bored stares from flat algid eyes with cigarettes like shriveling worms from their lips, every breath a bit of magic turning them into acrid dust. The streets clanged with machines and shivered with life and orange heat was the color every day had unless you blasted out of the city and into the places of vegetal ripeness and green where the jungle turned into a great black wall swallowing up the land and proving just how tenuous humanity's strutting hubristic command of nature really was.

You could boil it, rip it up with Rome plows, blast it, bomb it, drown it with poison, and it'd still come back. An angry howling mutant plunging its shoots turned into angry talons into the concrete and ripping up your shit in ten minutes.

The engine screamed and Revy just sat back, cig bleeding itself to death by degrees. She was fuckin' bored and it was hot and the shitbucket Plymouth didn't have AC and it was too goddamned hot to pretend to be anything but herself. At least Rock was an okay driver, even if he was a fuckin' jap, and Revy was pretty sure they were like chinks and wogs and shoulda just been given rickshaws and bikes.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Rock. It's too fuckin' hot." And that was with the windows down. At least she was sitting in the back.

Rock'd gotten a little sick of listening to her voice next to his ear. In the heat, everything took on a sickening urgency. A simple murmur could turn into a scream and all the gnawing little habits somebody had took on a malevolence squirming into your head and under your skin.

Revy's voice still stepped into his head. It wasn't a pretty voice but it was a sexy one and it could be _really_ sexy when it was soft and dripping and thick like honey in your ear but this wasn't one of those goddamned times.

"Yeah, well, I can't turn down the sun-"

"You fuckin' wish. That'd make this goddamn shithole livable. Just a little bit." Traffic laws happened to other people. Lagoon Company already paid its monthly dues, and 'til a new Chief came or maybe the Army, and that wasn't gonna happen without some serious blood in the streets, nobody got squeezed by the bored-looking traffic cops sitting on the shoulder with a case of open beers blowing a stink of rotting grain outta their open necks. The old piece of shit Chevys they drove weren't gonna be any use chasing the Roadrunner, anyway.

One just gave a little wave from half-recline. Another of the pigs was asleep under his peaked hat. The waver fanned himself with a slow melancholic ripple of a newspaper. Revy didn't give 'em more than one look.

Rock stared longer. In Japan, you didn't dread the police, but at least you respected and feared them. They had some kind of eldritch power like priests in their vestments, and they were linked to the Big Man Upstairs. 'course, that meant the Justice Ministry and all its arcane rites but it was still like the Inquisition. The second they had you in their clutches, unless you were Somebody who could buy a new secular indulgence, you were fucked.

They could hold you for months without trial. They could push you around, scream in your ear, and more importantly than anything they could humiliate you in public and your parents and their parents and your siblings and everyone would have those scarlet letters stitched in their reputations until you repented and admitted, Yes, yes, I did it.

God, tell me what I did so I can confess to it.

It wasn't much different in Roanapur. 'cept nobody believed in the fantasies anymore. People in Roanapur Believed. Big full-capital letters. But what they Believed wasn't what the Japanese Believed.

Sometimes people who didn't Believe washed up in dirty black water prismatic with grease and machine oil and gas and diesel stink, bloated in the heat, fished out with gaffs and losing their luster and color and shrinking into that weird white demon look everybody got in the tropics and what made all the Africans think the pasty people who'd come were really their ancestors there to judge them and frolic in the life after death.

Revy's face ran with sweat in big gluey smears. Rock's eyes kept flicking back to the rear-view. She was always gorgeous but beautiful women got prettier when they were sweating, he thought. Japanese girls didn't sweat enough 'cause they were all so dainty and made a studied obsession out of _not_ being indelicate but Revy was pure indelicacy and if you looked at her when she was asleep you'd never know it.

There was the lean long muscle and the impossibly long legs and the big tits and tight belly, yeah, but there was the face and the face was still a twentysomething and the hair looked like a club girl's more than a hardened killer's. She could look almost beatific when she wasn't awake.

That was the only time.

"Turn on the goddamn radio, retard. I hate listenin' to nothin'." Revy's voice was a dagger in his neck.

"What do you wanna listen to, Revy?"

"Turn it fuckin' on. I don't fuckin' care."

"You always get pissy like this when it's hot." Rock knew he should've said it. At least he didn't say anything about her time of the month. Benny did it once and Revy wasn't nice enough just to beat the shit out of him.

She didn't do anything. Gave him this long hard look and the room started spinning like she was giving off lethal rads in Chernobyl's cold elephantine sarcophagus and Benny just shrank down in his skin and Revy kept it up for two months.

She knew how to keep the anticipation going.

"Yeah. 'cause it's fuckin' unnatural for anything to be this hot."

"Why do you wanna go to that old church, anyway, Revy?"

"'cause they got AC."

"We got AC-"

"They got better AC. And you're not stickin' around. You piss me off around Eda." Rock didn't know _why_. It wasn't like Revy was exactly the kind of girl who draped herself over his shoulder and held fast to him and wrapped her lips around his ear and bristled like a food-aggressive doberman.

If she wanted to fuck him, she sure as hell never made that clear. They'd had some moments, but that was all they were. Moments. Like sitting around after school with the literature club and Yuki with her perfect gravure model shape and her long shiny black hair she combed every day with tee tree oil and a boxwood comb giving off yamato nadeshiko aura and fragrance begging for a touch and he was _sure_ something was going to happen.

But nothing ever did. Maybe he was just a fuckin' pussy.

No.

He _knew_ he was. He just winced when Revy slammed a dirty jungle boot against his seat back like a bratty ten-year-old. The laces thrashed with a noisy swirl and one of 'em whipped his cheek and what'd he do?

Shit.

Nothing.

The Ripoff Church was far from the city. Far enough it looked like it belonged to another world. The Old World in the older, with high gabled façade and fluted smile and big rose window overlooking the hill where it sat like an arrogant God, built by the French or the Spanish in that kind of mission style didn't really belong in the tropics, but there it still was, a lord of high swaying palms and creeping shadows burning with a color like the laterite dirt on its face and red slate tiles.

Rock liked it well enough. He wasn't the kind of guy to fall to his knees and plead for the Lord's beneficence, but that wasn't the Ripoff Church's scene, anyway. It had that kind of unwholesome beauty that made you think there was probably a vampire entombed in its bowels in the cold living earth writhing with worms.

Nobody met them. That said everything about being expected. If it'd been anyone else, the few real parishioners they had or NGO staff or uninvited guests or even the goddamned Pope, there might've been a retinue of discreet gunmen at the windows and Sister Yolanda the fucking pirate penguin with a welcoming smile and a suggestion maybe you come back at another time during mass, if you wouldn't mind, because this church has other business.

Rock let the Plymouth idle. Revy cracked open the door, stepped out, and sent him off with a one-fingered salute and a suggestion about what he could do with it. He was half-glad to be the fuck away.

Half-pissed, too, about wasting his time on the errand and not even getting invited in for a drink or even to take a leak before he headed off again.

Revy stood there, let the shadows wash over her. The cool smells of sun-dappled green and freshly-cut grass and fiery bougainvillea garlanding the old stucco in red and pink and gold and trees wavering with a few breezes but then it just got too goddamned hot for all the _Walden_ crap and she stalked up the path.

It hulked in front of her. Reached up to heaven like you could climb the spires to escape the world. Her boots clumped on the steps and the doors swung open with a soft creak. The place took on a spooky haunted look. Not just from the emptiness. Yeah, there was that. You could hear bats and devils creaking around in the high shadowy ceiling and there was never any real light outside of what leaked through the windows or the brassy puddles dripping like spots of wet fire off the fixtures and sconces and there was a stink of secondhand humanity stale and powdery in the cold dry air and you could catch rivers of dust swirling around to their own rhythm like lost souls in the gloom.

It was a place to get anybody in a gothic mood. Revy's ponytail was limp from sweat, sat sullen on the back of her neck.

"Hey! Eda! Goddammit, are you gettin' wasted without me or somethin'?" There was nothing sacral about the sanctuary. Eda usually had a table pulled up next to the altar and the only metamorphosis was from sober to shitfaced. It was a better kinda eucharist, anyway.

Break some bread, toss around some pizza. Only Antonio's delivered and they only delivered to the Ripoff Church 'cause the white powder Antonio moved around wasn't mostly flour and anyway why the fuck wouldn't you do a favor for the local church when you're a wop Catholic or whatever?

"Eda! For Chrissake! Where the fuck are you?" Eda invited _her_, for fuck's sake. Revy's voice thrummed around the room's edges. It was too big even for an echo. Fuzzed out like ships falling off the edge of the world. But there wasn't anybody there.

Not even the cyclops or some of those spooky-eyed freaks in their frocks and blank eyes throwing around big bales of dope and in a half-stone daze all the time. Still fuckin' fast on the draw.

Nothing like Revy. She still had her Cutlasses in their shoulder rigs, everything moist and starting to get tacky with the sweat curdling on her skin. A little shiver pricked at her nape.

She could feel it move down her spine.

"Eda? What? You tryin' to freak me out or somethin'? Eda?" Stepped up to the table with a red-trimmed white cloth thrown over it. No bottles but just a single glass and a note. A neat little square etched in a shadowy outline with a neat calligraphic hand in black ink stark against the paper.

_Drink me._

What was with the Alice in Wonderland shit?

"Hey, Eda? The fuck's your goddamn problem? What is this crazy crap?" It was claret-red, thick. Mawkish and kinda sickening with the scent it was giving off, so sweet it musta been shitty Jew wine or something. Hell, Revy didn't give a fuck if it was a thousand-dollar-a-glass vintage or swill like Mad Dog. It was all the same rotten shit and sure as hell all the same goin' down and comin' out.

So Revy drank it. Which might've been the first mistake. It didn't have a weird taste coming down but suddenly her knees were starting to vibrate and the room wasn't swirling but she was just tumbling end-over-end through it in a fetal position even standing and at least there was a chair.

Which she missed by about four feet and felt her ass hit the hardwood and then her palms slap the scuffed old slabs and she just stared up at the ceiling with reality shrinking down to a black little pinprick. A TV went off and then there was fuzzy static.

"You're kinda dumb, you know, Revy? But that's okay. I really like that about you." The voice leaked in from somewhere. There was music, too, subdued and coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Revy had a vague idea who the voice belonged to. Problem was, that voice was about to belong to a goddamned dead woman if she was right.

"Goddammit, Eda. The fuck'd you give me to drink?" Eyes couldn't fucking open. Or maybe it was 'cause Revy _was_ cranking open her eyes, and there was just nothing there. Pure darkness. Impossibly thick, like drowning in India ink.

And then she heard it. Felt it. Lashes rasping at soft velvet.

"Did you goddamn blindfold me or somethin', cunt-"

"That's _not_ very civil, bitch." Eda's voice sounded a helluva lot harder. But she didn't smell like the old robes and shit and that stupid fuckin' nun's habit and veil. She didn't reek like booze and cigarette smoke and sex the way she did at the Flag in her pretty pink titty costume with skirt just a little band around her cunt and hips.

"Fuck you-"

"Oh, that's _not_ what a good little girl should be saying, Two-Hands." The fuck was this shit? Revy knew Eda was into some _weird_ shit, but this was kinda far-out there. Everything was still. Not just still in the way a closed room was but like sitting in a tomb hadn't known the air for ten thousand years.

No dank sickening rot. No mouldering stink of a waterlogged basement or old turned earth or cold stone, either. Just this weird neutral nothing and then something gentle and sweet pricking at Revy's nose.

"Eda, goddammit-" And then Eda hit her.

Not hard. But it was a palm with a sharp sudden _crack_ on Revy's cheek. Red mist moved in the space behind her eyes but something else cold and slippery like an eel turned over between her gut and her throat and heat clapped between Revy's thighs.

"Motherfucker, you're gonna be wipin' your ass with your feet, you fuckin' cunt-"

"Don't be such a nasty girl." Eda hit her again.

Revy's arms were limp. She couldn't move 'em. The slap was a shock of movement and sparking sensation and Revy felt her lips start to shake a little. Eda slapped her again and the sound was a thunderclap in her ears and her knees would've given if she hadn't already been sitting and Revy just shut the hell up.

"That's a _good_ girl." This woulda been fucking creepy any time and any way, but blind it was worst. Revy didn't know what the hell Eda was doing, what she _wanted_ to do.

"Eda, you're-"

"You know, I don't really like my name. It's such a fucking stupid one. I mean, _Edith_." Eda's voice had gotten flintier, too. Revy'd heard it once or twice like that. Adult and severe and not one of the stray dogs snapping and snarling but professional, a businesswoman's voice.

And then Revy caught the soft _tic-tic-tic _of high heels on what sounded like hardwood.

"What kind of bastard parents name their kid _Edith_? It's such a godawful stodgy name. Why not Myrtle or maybe Beulah?"

"What is this, some kind of therapy shit, Eda-"

"You know what you're going to call me, Two-Hands." There were suspiciously few questions in that sentence. "I'm sure you know. After all, it's not the first time, is it?" Christ.

"Eda-" Revy _really_ felt that slap. Not just a dainty little tap but enough to have gun-callused fingertips burning on Revy's jaw.

"Not _Eda_."

"Okay. Okay."

"Good girl." The blindfold came away. Revy didn't know what the fuck she'd been expecting, but it wasn't _that_.

Eda was, well, fuck, she was goddamned incredible. No. That wasn't much of a revelation. Just, anyone who'd seen Eda outside of her work clothes would know _that_. Big pillowy torpedo tits and impossibly long legs and that shimmery blonde hair like gold-plated cornsilk.

Not she was just wearing her skin right now.

"What do you think, Revy?" Revy'd never seen her in a suit before. Figured she'd own one. You'd have to be goddamned stupid to think Eda wasn't probably playing both sides. CIA, Revy figured, from how the Ripoff Church could slink around borders the way most people did the Lower East Side.

It'd been cut perfectly for her. Black. Tits stuffed into a jacket looked almost like it was _strait_ and puffing out of a neckline about at mid-chest and with her hair dragged back in some librarian bun with a few silky threads fringing her face.

A pair of glasses caught the light and it finally hit Revy she could really see. Looked around and she'd never been wherever it was before. Wasn't a dingy hot-sheet joint and probably was _somewhere_ in the church. Maybe it was Eda's bedroom in the place. Revy only knew the house she had outside the city in some expat neighborhood.

Dark polished cherry-tinged wood and warm lights and it was even warmer with the swimming lava lamps like some campy 'sixties dorm, wax writhing in red and purple water with a boneless stripper bump-and-grind.

A big bed. Revy lashed to a chair. Glanced down and-

"What the fuck am I wearing-"

"You have a _real_ foul mouth, Two-Hands. Remember what day it is?" Revy was about to say something like, What the fuck?

And then it hit her.

Oh.

Yeah.

Still, Eda couldn't help herself, could she? Stalked with her ridiculously long legs glowing in stockings looked like they'd been painted on with crude oil and black patent leather heels and a skirt was pretty much a glorified belt with a high slit and snatched a mirror away from a wall.

If this was Eda's bedroom, she musta kept her guns everywhere else. 'cause there were layers of vague suggestive shapes draped in sheets and her bed stands were clear and now Eda was setting the mirror down in front of her.

"What do you think, honey?" It was _weird_ to hear that. In such a soft flinty voice but still with some warmth in it.

"I- holy shit."

"_Language_." That was just too fuckin' much. But Revy looked too fuckin' much, too. She was- she- Christ, she

"I- why do I look like I'm sixteen?"

"Because you can pass for it. That's why." Her hair was loosened and perfectly brushed out and it looked like it'd been washed and Revy's only thought was she must've been out for a helluva lot longer than she figured before. But that wasn't the worst. It was just weird to have it falling over her shoulders, neatly smoothed down.

It was fucking psychotic to be wearing a cutesy bubblegum-pink blouse and too-long skirt and ash-white stockings and fucking little-girl shoes.

"What- what am I wearing?"

And makeup.

Eda made herself look like a ball-stomping bitch of a lawyer and she made Revy look like a kid. Softened the hard edges and plumped up whatever babyfat there was and her eyes were haloed in fuchsia and her lips in coral and this was fucking perverted.

"You're sick, Eda." Revy felt something weird looking at the girl in the mirror. Felt the wrath deflate a little.

More than a little.

"Stop calling me that." Eda didn't hit her. This time. Just reached out with a lean arm and pinched her fingertips into Revy's chin and jerked her eyes up away from her adorable kinderwhore shoes. "Don't you love the look?"

"It's- this is-"

"You love it, don't you? Being pretty for me?" Revy just stared at the girl looking back at her and the girl stared back and the eyes were still a wild animal's but it was like seeing a wolf dolled up like a fuckin' French poodle.

Dissonance.

That was the word. Fucking dissonance.

"Don't you love being pretty for me, Rebecca?" Jesus, she was _not_ gonna take that. Flash of raw red heat behind her eyes like a 'roided-up bull seeing a matador's bare ass. But she couldn't do shit. Everything was weak and helpless.

"F-fuck-"

"_Language_, young lady." And _now_ Eda hit her. Didn't just hit her. It was a full production, arm cranked back and her palm _slammed_ on Revy's cheek. At least she could still swallow back the little moan it was trying to build into a fucking bonfire behind her lips. "You should be more obedient, shouldn't you, Rebecca? I mean, after all, mommy-"

"Mommy?" Yeah, Revy could still choke out a full-throated scoff at that one. Oh, it was a fuckin' scoff. It was the scoff of the century.

The millennium. It was getting late, wasn't it?

"Mommy, Rebecca. Do you know why?"

"Fuck you, bitch-"

"Oh, that wasn't very smart." Revy was pretty sure. She didn't know _why_ she couldn't feel her arms, but it was probably 'cause whenever she tried to shrug her shoulders she heard something catch and clink just behind her. A deep guttural rhythm from somewhere. Not the screaming metal madness Revy loved.

Eda snatched up the mirror, set it against the wall with a soft _clunk_.

And now Eda was dipping down. Revy's eyes gave her their best hard flat stare. It was pretty fuckin' worthless when Eda could just dig long hard fingers up through her hair and start pulling.

Zero-to-escape-velocity.

It hurt.

Jesus fucking _shit_, it hurt.

Revy didn't say shit. Just gritted her teeth, set her jaw, tried to stare down Eda and it was fuckin' hopeless 'cause Revy already knew Eda had fingers could bend sheet metal like industrial machinery and she was really putting 'em into it.

"I don't want to hurt you, sweetie. You know that. I just want you to act obediently for once. I mean, it's a very special day today. It'd hurt if you forgot." More. More. Shrieking pain in Revy's scalp and water starting to leak into her eyes like salt spray and a shocking blood-dark splinter burning in her gut and she wasn't gonna say anything. Not even with her knees shaking a little.

"Just tell me you're sorry, and I'll stop." How the hell could it get _harder_ without taking her hair outta the fuckin' scalp in big chunks but it did, Christ, it did and Eda's smile was pure maniac and her eyes were cold sapphires fresh outta the fucking arctic behind her glasses' brittle frames and she smelled like fresh bergamot and tangerine soap and tropical fruit shampoo and her hair was bright and still a little humid from a shower and her lipstick was devil red.

And now Eda was taking hold of the back of her neck with the other hand, letting nails bite into her skin.

"Just say you're sorry."

"F-fuck you, bitch-"

"Okay." _Now_ there was the real strength. A sudden yank and Revy finally let out a little whimper and fuck that was pure ruby-red heat in her cheeks and even cuter for the soft-shade foundation and pink lips. "Oh, _that_ was nice, Rebecca.

"It's such a pretty name. Rebecca. Do you want to start playing nice now?"

"N-no fuckin' way-"

"It's okay. I like hearing you scream, anyway." Eda's smile was the last thing most people saw on the wrong end of a Glock. Drew back an arm and **hammered** her palm rough enough it felt like a fucking open-handed slug on Revy's jaw.

Another whimper.

"So sweet." And another. Another. No slow progression. Just beating the shit out of her, whipped on her jawline, back and forth, Revy's eyes glowing with tears and the world getting a little misty. "Oh, oh, that's too bad. I smudged your cute gloss a little bit, Rebecca."

Revy said nothing. When Eda let her go, rose back up with a dignified primness, Revy just let her mouth open, tongue lolling out.

It was a serious fucking mistake.

"Look at that tongue. Like a dog. A little bitch." Fingers like vice grips on that soft wet stripe. "Are you a little bitch, Rebecca? I mean, you call yourself _Revy_. That's a dog's name if I've ever heard it." You couldn't say _fuck you_ with your tongue between somebody's fingers without sounding like a retard. Revy knew that.

And she knew there was a hot itch between her thighs, too.

Even more when Eda stepped back, rapped a perfect nail on her teeth with that goddamned obnoxious _click-click-click_ like a rat's claws on a tiled floor, except the way it filtered through her ears made Revy's ankles twitch.

"Mmm. What am I going to do with you, Rebecca? I've tried being reasonable, you know. Tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. But if you're going to be _my_ girl, I want you to be good. Are you going to be good?"

"S-screw you." Yeah, it was begging for more. Revy hadn't thought Eda's leg would just swing out, slide a heel she musta fucking honed on a whetstone into her left thigh. And keep pushing. She didn't hear the sound coming out of her lips much.

Like pinching a helium balloon closed and just letting out a few little squeaks.

"Mmm." Eda's face had gotten a _real_ dangerous glow. "Screw me, huh? You know, that might be an idea, Rebecca. After all, simple animals like you have simple psychology. You know what the hierarchy of needs is?" Christ. "Sex is pretty important.

"What do you think, Rebecca? Are you just acting out for mommy's attention?" Then Eda's heel was gone and _Eda_ was gone, whirling behind her, everything patchwork through the pink haze like snatches of conversation on a windy street. "Is that what you want? Mommy's love like _this_?" Jesus Christ. Eda's voice warm and soft and wet next to Revy's right ear.

Sucking down lungfuls of Revy's scent. Revy just sat there, felt her spine get rigid. Everything go stiff. Toes twitching. Eda's mouth so so so fucking close to her ear and doing nothing.

"What do you think, Rebecca?"

The sound seeping out of Revy's lips didn't sound like words so much as just a cat swallowing a hedgehog.

"What was that? Words, if you don't mind. I'm afraid I'm not too good with animal grunts-"

"You're- goddammit-"

"_Language_." Eda's lips turned into teeth around her earlobe. Stamped it rough enough Revy was pretty sure she could wear an earring now. "Language-"

"I- I just... Let..."

"Let what? Let you run wild like you _always_ do? Uh-uh. I don't think so." Eda's hands burned on her belly, both of them through the brittle _whatever_ fabric, lace-trimmed and satiny and so fine Revy was pretty sure it was just a trick of the light. "That's gotten us here.

"Such a bad girl. The way you mouth off all the time to Sister Yolanda. You know, she thinks there must be _something_ off about our relationship."

"Y-you don't say." Shit, was that _her_ voice? Squeaky and high.

"Uh-_huh_. It's frowned on in the Church-"

"So's drug-dealing and gun-running-"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that's not true." Fair enough."Call me mommy, Rebecca-"

"No- no way." Not _no fuckin' way_. Yeah. Revy heard it, too. Eda sure as hell did. Fingers interlaced on her belly.

"No? No way? Oh, I don't think so." Which was why those blunt smooth nails were twisting into Revy's belly through the shirt. "Don't make me ruin these pretty clothes-"

"No fucking _way_-" it turned into a scream echoing off the low ceiling.

Eda clawed her. Slid a hand under her blouse and raked it down Revy's belly and she could feel the skin rise up in four shallow uneven seams.

"Obey me, Rebecca. It'll be so much nicer. Don't be such a little brat-"

"Fuck you." Eda _really_ did it now. Nails up and down, left and right, building a big fucking tapestry of little weals and Revy just wanted to start screaming but there was just a strangled little sob leaking out of her throat. Wouldn't give Eda _that_.

"You _are_ a little brat, aren't you? But that's okay. I think it's cute. I'll just have to tame you, Rebecca." Which was why whatever was pinioning her wrists clanked and clicked and it was still wrapped with a weird cottony numbness and she could feel again but there was just nothing to feel.

Hoisted over her head and now she was on a fucking rack, or close enough, an intricate open metal scaffold on another side of the room. Revy had to stand up stiff. Almost at attention. One little hunch and her wrists started aching and then begging for relief.

And now she knew _just_ how fucking high her slutty little-girl shoes were. At least four inch heels and thin little wedges of support.

"How does it feel?" It felt exposed. Cold heat and sweat and spit on her cheeks and a few strings slipping down her jaw and her eyes smeared with tears.

"F-fine. I feel fine-"

"I like that little quiver in your voice. It gets mommy _very_ excited." And Eda pretty clearly fuckin' loved hearing _mommy_ in her own voice. "Don't you think, Rebecca? Come on. Don't be ashamed. Call me mommy."

Eda clicked away. Stood there like she was some prissy underfed Coastal douchebag with a beret and jutting ribs who'd had her two celery sticks for the day and her hundredth Gitanes, admiring some installation piece with shit smeared on a canvas and two midgets whipping each other with paintbrushes.

'cept Revy was the midgets with paintbrushes and she didn't just feel her knees shake under the stare. Eda's eyes were fucking scary and Revy'd always known that. Not when she was being just another nasty bitch but when she was legitimately frightening and cold and clinical and they might've been the eyes a concentration camp victim would see when Herr Doktor Mengele cradled a scalpel between his little fingers and said he was about to operate.

They were icy European plains. They were pure evil and there were a few little beads of sweat gleaming on her forehead and Revy heard her legs when the heels went on and off the floor like tap-dance.

"Call me mommy-"

"No fuckin' way-"

"I like how petulant you are." Eda did. Which was why her fist was in Revy's solar plexus. Not hard enough to make her hurl but that was about it. Strangled the breath in her lungs and snapped her spine tight and jerked her shoulders and sent her hands cracking at their restraints and her shoes clattering on the floor and a wordless powdery-dry sob out of her nose. Eda hit her again.

Bruised her ribs. Lashed at her belly's thick muscle. Revy couldn't stop whining and more than anything there was the pain and the pain turned into a dripping sweet _something_ she didn't have words for and she never had but it made her want to scream and keep screaming and the screams finally blew themselves out of her mouth when she could swallow breath and she didn't give a fuck about the defiance anymore.

It hurt. Tenderizing her ribs and sending big red cords standing up through her thighs and those hardened into stone but it was brittle, broke, splintered into ragged shards digging into her body and tearing between her legs.

"A-ah! Stop! Stop!" Yeah, she was begging. Revy knew what Eda wanted and Eda wanted to hear, _Stop_, just so she could say, No.

"Oh, I don't think so. You haven't learned your lesson, have you?"

"Y-you goddamned fucking bitch, I'll-" Whatever it was, Revy didn't get it out. Not when Eda belted her across the jaw. And there was nothing else she could say when she came. It was like snapping your fingers and feeling a vase crash on your head and that became orgasm jerking yourbody like a marionette with its strings pulled tight.

Revy's breath was gone.

The world went red and sprinkled with black ash like rain and blood thudded in her ears and she just wanted to stop, wanted to wail, God, enough, enough, it's e-fucking-nough but she didn't do or say anything.

Eda stepped back.

"Are you going to apologize, Rebecca?"

"Y-you goddamn s-say sorry to me."

"I guess not." Which was when Eda stepped even closer, delicately clasped her lips on Revy's chin. Pushed a soft lingering kiss there and the kiss turned into a bite. Hands blazed on Revy's hips and fingers shoved into her skin with a relentless growing squeeze and lacing down around her ass with a hard sharp clinch.

Revy mewled.

She knew she did.

"Good girl." And she knew she did even more when she heard Eda's voice. Fingertips digging into her butt through the fluttery skirt, and finally just pulling it down. Let it pool at her feet. "What a brazen little slut you are.

"What kind of little girl do I have who doesn't wear panties?" The numb air turned cold around Revy's naked thighs and pussy. "And you don't even have any hair there." Revy sure as hell didn't.

Totally bare. Pussy puffy; peach-colored lips usually tight and thin and inflamed now and slipping apart and slick and greasy with juice and it wasn't only Eda who smelled it. Sickeningly sweet and floating up into Revy's nose and tingling Eda's and Eda just smiled.

"Look at that. _Smell_ that. What a nasty little girl you are." Eda's fingers felt like hot coals on her thighs, wound her thumbs along that seam between bare skin and the crisp dainty stockings starting to glow translucent with sweat. And then up. Up.

Coasting over those impossibly soft cool shapes where the thighs turned _inner_ and just ghosting around her pussy and winding back and cupping Revy's ass.

"You have _such_ a big ass for such an athletic girl, you know. These nice round cheeks." Eda just toyed with them. Revy felt the flesh bounce, fingers twisted under them and sending heavy muscular globes coated in drum-tight skin springing up and down and up and down before the nails were digging into her and sending Revy's molars grinding together enough she was pretty sure she'd need fillings.

"This _ridiculously_ big fucking ass. You know, I've always wanted to fuck you up the ass, Rebecca. I think it would _really_ hurt with the toys I've got." Jesus. "I want to hear you scream, Rebecca. I love it when you scream."

She didn't scream. The pain was mild and constant and growing, blunt nails turning sharp in the pressure like lying under a car's bare rims and worming itself up through every fucking nerve and Revy just wanted more.

She was begging for more.

"P-please, please-"

"Please _what_?" Was that really the time just to give? Fuck. Revy didn't think so. Eda wouldn't like that, would she?

Would Revy?

"Please what, Rebecca? Oh? You mean, you _do_ want me to fuck you up the ass with a toy?" Jesus Christ, _no_.

"W-what? Fuck, no-"

"Oh, really? I don't know. You know what a Freudian slip is? It ain't a pair of Viennese underwear." Eda just glided around her, and now Revy was listening and feeling and seeing nothing but herself in the mirror and that porous frame and Eda vanishing behind her body and knelt down.

Cupped her ass and brushed aclinging little kiss with luscious lips on the left cheek before her palm did more than kiss it. A cup and squeeze and then it was pure screaming. Molded around her ass' bubbly tight shape by muscle memory and _crashing_ into it.

Eda didn't indulge her with a slow progression. Just whipped her hand on Revy's skin and Revy'd had a lot of fucking pain in her life but spanking had never been part of it. Not the gunshots and the liquor bottle's hollow _chunk_ on her jaw and a boot in her gut and everything else that just had the polarized emptiness in pain that was just pain without ambiguity and without that delicious shameful hot flush in her cheeks, without her legs going tight and her belly sucked up against her arching spine and it was always the fucking spanking that did it.

More than anything, it was the sensations lashing at her, wide and diffuse and tingling and it wasn't hard enough to be real anguish and it wasn't gentle enough _not_ to be either and she just wanted more, more, more. It was the humiliating knowing she couldn't stop couldn't stop the shivering and yelping and screaming and the sensation knitting tight and thick in her.

Revy came. No simple discreet little orgasm she could've hidden but a trill and whine and it turned into a squawk babbling gooey brain-melted nonsense with her jaw chattering and brain swirling with the reed-shaking sounds of Eda's palm on her ass ricocheting off the walls and ceiling, first the right cheek and then the left and back and forth again and again and again and a-fucking-gain and she wanted more and something was begging Eda to stop and that just made the sensation even huger.

When Revy came, she fucking _came_. Like dumping cold water on a hot metal plate and steam bulging in her legs and straining her arms and spasming up her spine and twisting her head back with a scream out of her throat and something else jetting out of her pussy everything curling around nothing and just fucking **begging** to be filled.

And Eda didn't stop. Anyone else, wouldn't they fucking stop when they heard a juicy squirt of something soft and oily patter on the hardwood? When they _smelled_ that briny slap of something feminine and still weirdly masculine and with a sharp bite of seawater and sweet cream and ammonia.

Eda wasn't anyone else.

"S-stop! Stop!" It hurt.

More than hurt.

It turned into two big metal fists licked with fire 'til they were white-hot wrapped around Revy's lungs and heart and squeezing and her belly trembled and muscle spiked up into relief and was swallowed back again like strobe-light convulsions and Revy's eyes went huge and peeled and she couldn't fucking blink and tears leaked bitter and brackish down her cheeks and over her lips and they tasted like orgasm to her.

Revy ate herself alive and wailed and howled and Eda just swallowed the sight in soft brown skin going cherry-red and stippled with little pinpricks of purple and Revy finally just shrieked.

"Stop! Stop! M-mommy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Who says spanking doesn't work on bratty kids?" Revy _really_ was crying. So Eda slammed both of her palms on her ass again.

Just for good measure.

And did it again.

"G-God-" Revy still swallowed the _damn_ back.

"Good girl." And now Eda's scent drowned her when she stood up, wrapped herself around Revy from behind, warm cloth and soft skin. Her suit's rough fabric on Revy's ass made it feel like fucking tartare and all Revy's body wanted was more. "Such a good girl. Are you going to be a good girl?"

"Y-yes. Yes." Eda's heels _clip-clopped_ back around her. Eda stood there, leaned close for a kiss. And backed away, Revy's lips meeting nothing like trying to touch your own shadow on a faraway wall. And did it again 'til Revy was almost sobbing. "Please. Please. E- mommy. Mommy." _That_ had Eda's eyes flashing with something demonic.

Revy'd seen those eyes before.

They were a predator's cold and yellow in the woods.

They were a cat's glowing wet in the dark.

They were _her_ fuckin' eyes when she had the Cutlasses out but not full Whitman Fever like Dutch called it. When there was control and the control was part of the fun. Seein' some jumped-up asshole suddenly get why it felt like the floor was dropping out under their feet and cower and beg.

"Please, mommy. K-kiss me, mommy. Please. Please."

"A kiss, honey?"

"Please. Please." Revy's voice had even grown something you could call _sweet_. Or at least nutrasweet. Still with that six-pack-a-day smoker's pitch but higher and springing out of her nose and she could feel the word _cute_ and she fucking loved it.

So Eda slapped her. Just once. But it was the year's fucking slap and Revy came the second Eda's palm met her cheek and she started crying, too, just with the pressure flooding through her. With the scent and sound and Eda's expression and she could see something could see the fucking word _mommy_ tattooed in the air in big vibrating red letters and it was just absolutely fucking divine. And that slap broke the last crust between her tears and Eda.

"Good girl." And _then _Eda kissed her. Swallowed her plaintive little pules and sucked them down her throat and Eda's long fingers climbed up Revy's naked hips, over her tummy, unfastened the blouse not button by button but sent them popping off like the world's slowest goddamned snare drum on the floor and the blouse came away but not totally off and Revy felt the air get impossibly cold against burning skin.

The shiver was nothing next to the hot iron rod staking her from her head to her ass when Eda wound those fingers around her neck and squeezed. One hand, languid, so goddamned casual it was even more than the kiss with lips settling together slowly, unhurried, pressure growing on Revy's throat and that pressure biting into a body that felt as fragile as the sixteen-year-old girl she was pretty sure had hijacked her body and Eda's mouth like cocaine pinballing through her veins and clattering off all the delicious dopamine-drenched places and sending her knees knocking together, so fucking drawn-out and syrupy it woulda gotten lapped by molasses creeping down cold metal.

Revy loved it. Loved the communion of pink and red Eda's lips round and soft and cruel and sticky against hers and clinging for a half-second and pulling away just to kiss her more, and more, and more. Tongue flicked at Revy's teeth and mouth peeling open and inviting Eda even deeper.

Their tongues sweet with something vital and human and hot and tangling together and Eda's right hand on her neck and left carding through her hair and a knee impossibly glossy with hosiery snuggling up between Revy's thighs and the first little push the smallest little graze was a bare wire sparking on her clit.

Revy wanted to come. Wanted to melt and wanted Eda's thigh and she finally got it and crushed tight up against her pussy and felt those lips splaying apart, Eda's stockings slippery and oozing with long thin cords of Revy's juices and Revy couldn't even fucking scream.

Orgasm was like a baseball bat to the temple and she was transfixed and every muscle tightened and Eda didn't stop fucking squeezing her neck or kissing her or eating her breath and Revy was sure a buzzing screaming swarm of red radioactive mosquitoes had invaded her eyes and her cheeks were boiling scarlet and purpling and Eda finally backed off just a bit before she passed out totally.

"M-mommy, mommy-"

"Are you going to be good for me, Rebecca?" Eda's voice the stern disciplinarian mother's just _so_ distraught about having to resort to the rod when the spoiled child just didn't get it. "Are you going to be good for mommy, Rebecca?"

"Yes. Yes. I- I promise. Rebecca promises." It was fuckin' stupid and goofy and if Revy'd seen herself from the outside she probably would've tried to climb back into her shoulders and hope her head popped off but at that second it didn't fucking matter because it was perfect.

There was _something_ it touched and it wasn't just an itch you couldn't scratch with anything else but a button only that pushed and the button was better than any junk you could take through the nose or the vein or anything else.

Everything else was just a pathetic petty ghost of _that_. That whatever. The ineffable _whatever_ and Revy wanted more of it more and more and more but you couldn't fucking OD on it, either, or it'd just die and

"What do you promise, Rebecca?"

"To be good. To be good for mommy. Please. I want to be good for mommy."

"You do? Really? How are you going to show mommy that?"

"However- however mommy wants."

"Did you forget what today is, Rebecca?" Eda stood there, fingers slackening on Revy's neck, still let her feel the warmth but none of the pressure. The whispers without the voice.

"N-no. No. It's- it's mother's day-"

"That's right, Rebecca. Did you get mommy anything?"

"Uh-uh." It wasn't just a put-on guilt. Christ, at that second, it was _real_ guilt and Revy's eyes went big and guileless and a little tormented and the lips with their gloss smudged around her mouth and bits of Eda's red twitched and trembled and tightened in a plaintive little smile. "I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry? Oh, I think you can do _something_ for mommy, don't you?"

"A-anything. Anything."

"How about a nice meal?" Revy's eyes flared a little. So did Eda's.

"U-uh, um, I can't cook-"

"Not like that. Silly girl. You're just so _cute_." She was smirched and tears were still leaking in glistening rivulets down her cheeks and her skin was checkerboarded with splotches and big long red tracts and bruises were already starting to curdle.

She was desperately fucking cute.

"U-uh, well-"

"Don't you want mommy to have a _good_ mother's day?"

"Yes."

"Then you just stand right there." Revy's voice cracked like Waterford in a fucking hydraulic press when Eda's mouth met her throat. Steamed on her neck and poured down her shoulder and now Eda was working over her chest. Cupped her tits' marshmallow softness, big and hand-filling and nothing as fuckin' gigantic as Eda's but they were more than just _full_ and looked a little miraculous for a chick whose life was as hard-edged and hard-working as Revy's.

Perky dark nipples and round silky areolae against satin skin golden vibrant with sweat and Eda's mouth met one, and then the other. Rolled her tongue with sensation spattering behind Revy's eyes like a blast of cold winter ice on a window all of it running red and Revy's hips shaking, back arching 'til it almost broke, everything condensing into those perfect concentrated sensations and Eda's perfume floated up into her nose and the world tumbled on its axis with her. Eda shoved together her nipples, wrapped her tongue around them and stared up into Revy's manic dark eyes gone humongous and a little incredulous and Eda just smiled.

Nipped those cute little peaks and just dragged out that balanced-on-a-razor's-edge near-orgasm, harder and more urgent but never giving her what she needed and _that_ was what she really needed. Eda fell lower, lower, said everything about just how cast-iron her quadriceps were with knees splaying apart and sinking down down down painting Revy's belly with her lips and tongue and nibbling at her hips and finally fucking _finally_ reaching her pussy.

And sitting there and staring and gorging herself on the sight before anything else. The swollen lips and greasy fuck-hunger drooling out and leaking down Revy's left thigh like she'd pissed herself and sleeking and darkening her stockings.

Eda's nostrils flared, let out breath in humid pulses over Revy's clit.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, it's-"

"This is the meal _I've_ been waiting for. It's not mother's day without a feast, is it?" Jesus, no. Eda finally kissed her there. Fingers on Revy's legs and thumbs rolling with a blistering slowness along her inner thighs' cool-hot skin and now her lips reached her pussy. Just the first kiss but it was enough to have Revy begging for her hands to be free.

Anything for more.

Eda really fucking dragged it out, too. Once. And again. And again. Steaming and sticky and oiling her lips with Revy's pussy and finding her clit with clang of sensation like throwing a switch and closing a circuit on an electric chair and her tongue finally snaking out and splitting apart those lips and fucking _eating _her.

Messy and rolling around gentle sinuate shapes in a louche perpendicular kiss and swiping off big gobs of Revy's juices and swallowing them back with her spit in a noisy gulp and a rejoicing _yum_. Delicious. So fucking delicious.

Revy's world narrowed down to that sensation. To the fucking impossibility in staying on her feet and still forced to do it 'cause she couldn't give for even a second and her knees wobbled and ankles were melting jelly and Revy wanted nothing more than just to tumble back on a bed and fling apart her thighs and scream: Eat me lick me suck me kiss me maul me violate me just do fucking _everything_.

And she couldn't.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, do- do you like it?"

"Delicious." Not that Eda bothered pulling away to say it. Just let her voice thrum up through Revy and it shivered through her clit and shook through Revy's entire fucking body and that was about the second Eda chose to twist two fingers inside her. No gentle foreplay and no petting but just an inferno clawing its well-oiled way up through her.

The two fingers turned into three, swelled out against her clinging pussy. Cranked and curling and finding that spongy spot inside her and turning Revy's brain to melting jello and petting and pushing and tongue stroking up and up and up over her clit and Revy's eyes went white like she hadn't eaten for thirty or forty hours and the world turned washed out like overexposed film and she screamed and nothing came out.

Just that silent impotent howl and orgasm broiling through her and thick squirts of something a little pungent and deliciously sweet shooting out again with a rush of movement like all her nerves peeled and singing and more than she had for fucking weeks. They lashed Eda's cheek, curled around her wrist and fingers.

Eda didn't stop. Didn't stop 'til every new orgasm felt like the one after the one too many and it was having a taser jammed into your spine and sparking and Revy almost levitating off the fucking floor and Eda finally finally _finally_ let her free about a quarter-second before she legitimately pissed herself.

And kissed her.

Revy never woulda thought she tasted sweet. She did. Like honey with that musky tinge and eyes going glassy and stupid and there was only one thought in her head and that was: Oh, Jesus, let's do that again.

Eda held her. Let Revy curl on her lap with fingers wefting up through her sweat-matted hair and Eda hadn't even shed a single fucking thread of clothing and she gave off that candy-sweet scent of sex and satisfaction and Revy never really even asked her: Just what the fuck do _you_ get outta that, anyway?

The good little girl Rebecca was gone burned off like fog under the sun and there was just pure exhaustion and aches and pain and something else, too.

"Hey, _Edith_?"

"I fuckin' hate that name, Two-Hands. Yeah?" Eda wasn't being mommy anymore, either.

"What else d'ya want me to call ya, then?"

"I dunno. I like _mommy_-"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Nobody's gonna gimme shit over that. Not Rock. Not Dutch. Sister Yolanda's gonna be all on-board with the _mommy_ stuff. Dumbass." Revy was _not_ expecting to feel Eda's palm _whack_ her on the ass. Or the squeak that raw-meat sensitivity ripped out of her throat. "Ow! Fuck-"

"Don't call me dumbass, Two-Hands. Not when you got that cute red ass of yours. You're the goddamn dumbass, doin' something like that." The bed was comfortable. Revy kinda missed the blouse and stockings. Loved her hair still free. Eda's scent rose off the sheets over the detergent's clean nothing scent. "And I dunno. I always get stuck there, thinking of something better than Edith.

"Eda's close enough to something good, I guess." Eda's hand was back on Revy's scalp, idly sighing through her hair. "You've got great hair, Revy."

"I like it when you call me Rebecca, y'know. Sometimes." It was kinda sappy. So fucking what. Revy's voice sounded like a snotty sixteen-year-old caught out still playing with her Barbies.

"It's a cute name. About the only cute part of you." Revy felt Eda's eyes on her body's coiled shapes. Long tight-muscled legs and flat belly and slim arms and big breasts and round hips. "Goddamn, look at you. That ain't just cute.

"But I'm a fuckin' miracle-worker with makeup and clothes."

"That was a fuckin' awesome job with the drugs and the clothes and makeup. I didn't know that was what you had in mind, but goddamn if I'm gonna bitch. Where'd you get those, anyway?"

"You don't wanna know." Revy was pretty sure that meant she shouldn't ask. At all. Or maybe she'd hear the answer. Or at least _an_ answer. "They make you feel pretty?"

"Yeah. Really. Really... Really good." Revy loved it. She'd never tell anyone.That was for damn sure."I like it."

"I'm glad. You really are pretty." They just lay there for awhile.

"Hey, Eda?" 'til Revy's voice croaked a little through the calm. It was perfect impossible quiet. The tomb's total silence.

"Yeah?"

"Never mind." Revy felt the words logjam her mouth. About thirty different sentences all running together in a huge snarl.

_We fuck, and that's great, but why don't you ever want me to touch **you** when you're bein' the mommy?_

_What are you to me?_

_What're we to each other?_

_Is this just fun?_

_Do you do this with anybody else?_

"Whatever." Probably didn't matter, anyway.


End file.
